


Nothing Comes for Free

by Just_Another_Day



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Background Ancel/Berenger, Cock Warming, Endgame Canon Pairings, Hypocrisy, M/M, Marking, Missing Scene, Prostitution, Scheming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 14:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: Ancel won't just give it away, but the payment doesn't always have to be in coins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically a prologue and epilogue with the bulk of the story in chapter 2. I'll get the remaining parts posted hopefully within the next 24 hours, so you shouldn't have to wait too long.
> 
> Written for an anon [tumblr rarepair request](https://justanotherdaylikeanyother.tumblr.com/post/182266330507/so-ive-been-thinking-a-lot-lately-about-the-fact) for Ancel/Lazar, and for the kink bingo prompts 'cockwarming' and 'biting/bruises'. It's written to fit into canon as missing scenes, but you can read it as an AU if you prefer. Ancel/Berenger and Lazar/Pallas are definitely the endgame here, don't worry. This is just a stop along the way.

Ancel had already 'lost his virginity' eight times when he first met the soldier. 

Or at least Ancel had to assume that that was what the man was. He held himself somewhat like the rougher of those men who had swept through Ancel's village on their way to defend against Akielos's invasion years ago. Granted, Ancel had only really caught distant glimpses of them between taking his chance to pickpocket the distracted villagers who were more avidly watching the army procession, but Ancel had seen enough to now recognise certain similarities nonetheless. 

Ancel could also recognise the nature of the man's evident appraisal of him. He knew what it looked like when a man wanted him. Ancel had already known that long before the first time that he'd actually let someone act on that desire.

Ancel wasn't supposed to arrive at the brothel for the night another two hours yet, so it hadn't been his intention to find someone willing to part with a few coins for the pleasure of Ancel's 'company' quite yet. But neither would it make sense to say no in the event that such a man just stumbled across Ancel's path. At least this way he wouldn't have to give the brothel a cut of his take. Maybe this way – when there weren't two dozen other men and boys just across the other side of the curtains who'd offer the man a tumble for less – Ancel could even get away with demanding a little more money without losing the customer altogether. 

Though maybe soldiers didn't get paid well enough for that, because when Ancel put on his best innocent act and made his offer haltingly, as if he really was completely inexperienced at this – nine times wasn't such a stretch to still play a virgin, in Ancel's opinion – the man simply said, "I don't pay for it, kid." As if a nineteen-year-old whore could still be classed as a child using any definition. "And even if I did, I wouldn't be paying _extra_ for the fact that you don't know what you're doing. Assuming, of course, that you're even really a virgin, which I doubt at your age."

Oh, Ancel hated being called a liar, especially when he was lying. And he doubly hated the implication that he was considered _old_ , which might be a death knell in his new profession, for all Ancel knew. Besides, he did know what he was doing! Sure, maybe he'd only actually put it into practice eight times, but he knew he'd done it well.

A smile played around the edges of the man's mouth, vaguely smug. Ancel might never have had tutors and books and such, but he wasn't stupid. He knew it was as likely as not that the point of this was to annoy him so much that he would waive his fee just to prove himself. More than one man had tried to play that game with him before back when it had just been smaller favours he'd been exchanging for coins. But Ancel knew that the only time it would make sense to hand out a free fuck would be if there was something better than a few coins to be gained from it. Had it been some high-ranked Lord, he might have been persuaded to offer a free demonstration to both counter the aspersions cast on Ancel's skill and win himself a wealthy patron. But there was nothing to be gained from proving himself to one scruffy soldier, and he basically said as much.

Ignoring the snideness that slipped into Ancel's voice, the man said, "Well I'll be in town staying at the inn around the corner for two more nights if you change your mind."

Did this man really think he was so special that he was above paying for it? He wasn't _that_ attractive. And did this man also really think that Ancel was so desperate that he'd come crawling after him like that even if there was money involved? Not likely. 

Though Ancel had to admit that it was tempting to let himself be taken back to where the man was staying, which was presumably where his possessions were currently being kept, for more nefarious purposes than just a tumble. Most men knew better than to offer a whore access to their personal space like that, and for good reason. Ancel had always been rather a good thief when he was younger, and he doubted he was so out of practice that he couldn't relieve this man of his possessions with ease. And the man would deserve it, after the way he'd talked to Ancel so far. But on the other hand, Ancel doubted that a poorly-dressed soldier had enough quality goods or coins to be bothered with. And even if Ancel were so inclined, the inn had its own resident boys who would recognise Ancel as competition – even though Ancel wouldn't pay them such a high compliment in return – the moment they spotted him walking through the doors. Ancel didn't fancy having some little bitches try to scratch his eyes out for straying onto what they perceived as their territory. So it was hardly worth the effort.

So already starting to walk away, Ancel advised, "I wouldn't hold your breath. I'm not giving it away, here." 

"Your loss," the man said with an unaffected air that grated on Ancel's nerves as much as the words did. He really should regret missing out on the chance to bed Ancel. Did he really not understand what he was turning down? "Though maybe it's for the best. If you really are a virgin, I'd probably ruin you for any other cock but mine so young. And to be frank, you're not really my type anyway."

Ancel pursed his lips in irritation. Ancel was _everyone's_ type, thanks.

He tried to shove the annoyance and the recollection of the man both out of his mind as soon as the man was out of sight. It didn't really work, unfortunately. It was the first time in Ancel's life that he'd ever been rejected like that. That seemed to be a milestone that was determined to stick in his mind, despite his best efforts.

At least the next man Ancel encountered at the brothel later that evening was far more credulous and far less mouthy about the whole thing. So whatever some random soldier with bad taste might have said, it was clear that Ancel really could still pass as a virgin for a ninth time and be paid handsomely for his troubles after all. What that soldier had said obviously didn't matter. Ancel shouldn't care at all. It didn't even deserve a fleeting place in his thoughts.

But all the same, it took a while to shake the unwelcome knowledge that Ancel had somehow, against the odds and despite all his other experiences up until that point, actually been turned down.


	2. Chapter 2

It was only after a couple of months under contract with Louan that Ancel fully grasped that, despite the size of Louan's estate and the way all the lesser merchants fawned over him and scrabbled for his attention, Louan apparently wasn't actually as connected to the upper classes as Ancel had initially assumed. Much like he'd misjudged how rich the merchant's son who'd held his first contract was in the larger scheme of things, Ancel found that he'd also been too taken in by Louan's comparative wealth. He'd assumed that any man with a house so grand and who was so successful in trade must surely rub shoulders with the kind of aristocrats for whom Ancel would gleefully break his contract with Louan early. Ancel had, in fact, assumed he would already have received offers from a number of aristocrats by now. But now it had been over three months since Ancel had joined Louan's household, and despite attending a decent amount of parties with Louan's trade contacts and even his rivals, Ancel still had yet to be introduced to so much as a single member of the _minor_ nobility. 

Ancel had no intention of serving out the whole year with Louan. He knew he was older than many of the whores or pets who were just starting out in this career, so it seemed imperative that he properly establish himself among the upper echelons as soon as possible. Ancel had heard that there was certainly a market for older, more experienced pets among the nobility, but he'd also heard that those most often tended to be pets who were already well-known and with a proven track record. At twenty, it was still simple enough to pass himself off as being eighteen, or even sixteen. But what about when he was twenty-three, or twenty-five. Much like his repeated claims at virginity, there was a point at which it defied belief. And even if there weren't the threat of missing out on earning himself a more long-term career, Ancel would still refuse to waste years at this current level when he knew it was shy of where he should be. He knew what he was worth. A merchant's household wasn't ultimately where someone like Ancel belonged.

It wasn't a lost cause. Ancel didn't even think that Louan was necessarily a dead end, or Ancel would already have moved on. But there was obviously a reason why Louan didn't currently have the access to obscenely rich and powerful Lords that Ancel had assumed he _should_ have, given his position. Ancel thought he'd pieced together the problem through the complaints to which he was often forced to listen late in the evenings after Louan had tried to work out the frustrations of his day with Ancel in a more physical way. Louan was surprisingly talkative when he was sprawled over Ancel's back, trapping Ancel in place, making a captive audience out of him for those few minutes when Louan couldn't even be bothered to shift after he'd spilled. Ancel would call it annoying, except that it was also informative.

As far as Ancel had gathered, even though Louan supposedly had control of the trade route in and out of Patras, one of his competitors, Everard, was still somehow managing to move goods en masse between the countries without giving Louan his cut, and was also offering cheaper prices than anyone else could readily match, Louan included. Ancel didn't know much about trade, but he did know a little something about cheating people. Enough to recognise it when he heard about it. Even Louan suspected it, though he moaned that he couldn't prove anything. But apparently the aristocrats of Vere didn’t see it so clearly, preferring to deal with Everard over Louan as long as he was saving them money. The nobility loved showing off their wealth in the expense of their clothing and the quality of the jewels displayed on their pets, but as Louan bitterly proclaimed, they simultaneously didn't like parting with a single sol that they didn't have to. That was how they retained their wealth through the generations, after all. Cheapskates, Louan called them. Ancel would have to watch out for that when it came to accepting a contract from one of them. Prestige was all well and good, but what was the point if he didn't walk away at the end with entire chests full of expensive gifts?

"Just take his customers and put him out of business," Ancel said one night after a long spiel of grumbling on the matter. That would have been how Ancel would have handled a similar situation in the brothels, had he stayed that long or had any real competition there in the first place.

Louan made an indistinct sound, perhaps a laugh. "Be nice if it was just that easy, wouldn't it?"

Ancel didn't see why it _wouldn't_ be exactly that easy for a properly ambitious man to achieve. But it felt like by spelling out what Louan needed to do, Ancel would be giving something away about his intelligence or his ruthlessness, or both. Life would be far easier if Louan never figured out that Ancel was capable of spending most of their time together manipulating him without Louan noticing.

Though that did still leave Ancel with the problem of how to best salvage his current situation and set himself up for the future.

The potential answer came unexpectedly, through the equally unexpected reappearance of a familiar face. 

Louan's chief rival who'd been undercutting his business, Everard, had until then been absent from all of the merchant gatherings that Louan had brought Ancel along to. Likely off making the acquaintance of Lords instead, Ancel thought bitterly. On this particular night, though, Louan tensed beside Ancel. 

"Oh look, Everard's finally deigned to show up, has he?" one of the more minor merchants whose name Ancel had never bothered learning said. 

Curious, Ancel followed the direction of Louan's glare towards the door where an ostentatiously-dressed man who Ancel had never seen before had just entered. That must have been Everard. He had two pets, one hanging off each arm. Neither of them was anything particularly special by Ancel's assessment, but both were covered in more elaborate decoration than Ancel himself wore as an announcement to everyone present how successful Everard's business had obviously been recently. And the man and his pet were also flanked by four men; Ancel thought they were probably guards based on how they were dressed, though no one else present had thought it necessary to bring personal protection inside this gathering. Unlike the pets, the guards peeled off from Everard's presence, making their way over to the edge of the room where they could apparently keep an eye on things while Everard himself took a seat, his pets kneeling at his feet like spoiled kittens. Peculiar as their presence was, once they separated themselves like that, that would have been the last thought Ancel gave the guards if not for the fact that one of them registered as familiar to Ancel.

It took Ancel a few seconds to recall where he'd seen that face. Ancel immediately wished he could forget the answer once his brain came up with it. 

Even though he did stand out as still being the only man to ever suggest that Ancel might not be worth his asking price, Ancel could still barely believe that he even recalled the idiot's face months later. Even worse, apparently the favour wasn't even returned. The man seemed to notice Ancel's stare and looked his fill in return. There could be no doubt that he looked at Ancel with definite appreciation – if more subdued than Ancel deserved and was used to receiving – but there was no indication of recognition in the man's face.

That was even worse, somehow, than being effectively told that Ancel wasn't worth paying for. How many men who looked like Ancel could a common soldier – or a merchant's guard, apparently, though Ancel wasn't sure there was much difference – really have encountered? Ancel's long red hair alone was fairly unique, especially this far south, though Ancel was informed that paler skin and lighter hair was a little more common up north closer to Kempt. And while it was true that Ancel did look a little different in this setting, for the day in the marketplace when he'd last seen the man Ancel obviously hadn't been wearing paints and expensive cloth, Ancel also knew that he didn't need any of that to be both striking and _memorable_. 

This guard apparently thought otherwise. It was an insult of the highest order.

It annoyed Ancel to be overlooked like that. And even now, the man's eyes were drifting away from Ancel again, appreciating the sight of other men and even women in the room as if they could in any way compare favourably to Ancel. How dare he repeatedly disregard Ancel like that? Even putting aside the probability that he was cutting corners and cheating his customers somehow, Ancel couldn't imagine that Everard didn't deserve to be put out of business if he was the kind of man who would hire a guard like that. And once Everard went out of business, Ancel realised, the guard would presumably also be out of a job. The thought brought a rare smile to Ancel's face. Apparently that was enough to draw the guard's attention back to Ancel, as if Ancel were smiling _at him_. The guard even smiled back, though Ancel would call it more of a smirk than anything. It was probably the guard's version of flirtation. As if Ancel would ever bother with him now. He should have closed his mouth and opened his money pouch months ago if he'd wanted it to be otherwise. He'd missed his chance.

Although…

A plan was suddenly coming together in Ancel's mind of exactly how he might be able to push Louan to the top of his industry where Ancel needed him to be.

Surely a personal guard knew quite a bit about Everard's business practices. And the guard had a careless tongue, in Ancel's experience. He'd been far too willing to invite Ancel into his personal space and spoke way too openly for his own good. If he wasn't even protective of his own things, would he guard Everard's secrets any better? And even if he was inclined to be closed-lipped about his employer in general, Ancel knew from personal experience with Louan how men could become even more pliable and verbose once they were half out of their minds in the aftermath of taking their pleasure. Surely it would be simple enough for Ancel to get him either complaining or bragging about his job the same way Louan always did at that point.

It would be foolish to do it without Louan's approval, because Louan would question how Ancel had got the information, especially when Ancel would have to disappear for a significant period of time. But on the other hand, it would be a risk to present that kind of idea directly to Louan. Even apart from the possibility that Louan would look at him suspiciously after Ancel revealed his propensity for scheming, there was also the possibility that Louan would think Ancel wanted to cheat his contract and would react jealously. And not the kind of low-level jealousy Ancel might encourage, but rather the kind that might earn him a whipping or even an abrupt end to his contract and a bad reputation. So it would really have to be staged in such a way that Louan thought the idea originated from himself, not from Ancel. That was the only way Ancel could see it working in his favour. 

He had to wait for his opening.

Finally, Louan muttered, "Look at him, lording it over everyone." The direction he was looking in made it clear he was speaking of Everard.

"It's a pity you can't knock him down a peg, since he's here," Ancel whispered in a low voice into Louan's ear, so that anyone who was watching would think he was whispering sweet nothings instead. 

It took a while to steer the conversation in the way Ancel wanted. Ancel thought for a while that he was going to have to come right out and point out what he wanted Louan to talk about. But eventually he managed to less directly prompt Louan to complain about how Everard thought he was so important that he needed guards watching him at all times. 

This was where it got a little trickier, but at least they were finally on the right track. 

"You know, I actually recognised one of Everard's guards. I encountered him once in my village, months ago."

Louan narrowed his eyes. There was the jealousy Ancel had to be wary of. Careful. "Encountered, or 'encountered'?" Louan asked tightly. 

"He would have liked it to be the latter," Ancel said. "But he was a little too mouthy for my liking."

"Mouthy," Louan repeated.

"He talked too much."

"Yes, I know what mouthy means," Louan said shortly. Thankfully, though, he looked more thoughtful than ill-tempered about it.

Ancel chanced saying, "He wouldn't shut up about where he was staying and when he'd be leaving and all sorts of details about his job that I didn't care about. Not my type at all. Unlike you."

Louan said, "That's the kind of information that could be useful, though."

"Is it?" Ancel asked, as if he didn't already know.

"Do you think he'd tell you that sort of thing again now?"

"I don't know," Ancel said. "He lost interest in talking to me pretty quickly after I said I wouldn't sleep with him."

"But he wouldn't have reason to do that, if you hadn't turned him down, would he?"

There was more than a hint of reluctance that was probably born of possessiveness. Louan clearly didn't like the idea of sharing. But he obviously did like the prospect of money and success enough to offset that. 

Like a fish caught on a hook, thought Ancel, satisfied.

"What do you mean?" Ancel asked, as innocently as he thought would be believable, considering that Louan had known Ancel for months now.

Louan proceeded to explain what was more or less Ancel's own plan to him – though with less detail than Ancel himself had come up with, of course – as if it was Louan from whom the idea had actually originated. Perfect.

"I could do that," Ancel conceded slowly, as if he was thinking it through. "Isn't the whole point of a pet to be of benefit to you? And masters loan out their pets for entertainment and other reasons sometimes, don't they? This is no different. I'm at your command."

"Yes," said Louan, "you are. And don't forget it. You're mine. My pet."

Ancel saw a lot of placating Louan and letting him reclaim what was 'his' in his future. But that was tomorrow's problem. And it would all be worth it if Ancel could get some useful information that would get Everard out of the way and propel Louan – and therefore Ancel – into the sphere of nobles. 

When Louan sent Ancel on his way, it was with a proprietary slap to his ass that very nearly had Ancel rolling his eyes for the whole room to see. Ancel was too skilled at deception for that, though, so no one detected his true reaction even though a few people were looking. 

Ancel made sure they weren't looking by the time he was across the room. The entertainments after dinner were just starting, and all eyes were turning towards two pets – Everard's pets, Ancel realised – who'd situated themselves in the large space that was apparently to serve as a stage. All eyes except Ancel's and Lazar's, though Lazar was also distracted at the time; it was just by some young merchant's son who he was ogling. Was _that_ his type, Ancel wondered. Ancel couldn't see the appeal personally. 

It didn't take much to draw Lazar's stare to Ancel, though. 

"What's your name, pretty boy?" the guard asked once Ancel had slinked attractively over to his side.

"Ancel." No point playing hard to get. They were on something of a timetable here, considering that their absence wouldn't go unnoticed for _too_ long.

"I'm Lazar," the guard replied, as if Ancel had even asked. "I get the impression you're looking for something."

Ancel hadn't exactly been subtle about it. "I think I've found it."

"Aren't you supposed to be a pet?"

'Supposed' to be, he said, as if he doubted it. Just another reason for Ancel to be thoroughly unimpressed by him. Add it to the ever-growing list.

"Obviously," Ancel said. "Is that a problem?" 

"I don't pay for it," claimed Lazar, in an echo of their first meeting.

"Who's asking you to? I'm a pet, not a whore. Your coins aren't worth much to me."

Lazar seemed to accept that easily enough, and didn't bother asking why Ancel was seeking him out if not for money. Based on their last run-in, Ancel assumed that he was just that arrogant and thought it didn't need to be questioned. And either Lazar had been lying about Ancel not being his type the first time they'd met, or Lazar just wasn't going to let a little thing like 'types' stop him from getting a leg over when it wasn't going to cost him anything; or not that he would know of, and not immediately, though if Ancel had his way it would ultimately cost Lazar his current position. 

"Could be risky," Lazar warned. "Though maybe that's what you like." 

Ancel said, "I'm not interested in getting caught. But there's no risk of that. The entertainments have barely begun. My master will be otherwise occupied for at least another two hours. And he never misses me," Ancel lied. With forced petulance, he added, "It's not like he needs me to see to him as the other masters ask of their pets. There's never anything to see _to_."

Lazar grinned. "Ah, he can't get it up? That's not a problem for me. So if you're looking for someone to scratch your itches for you while your master's back is turned, you're in luck."

"Am I?" Ancel said; not a question. That seemed to be the end of the 'negotiations'.

Ancel left the large and crowded hall first. Just in case anyone happened to look away from the currently fucking pets for long enough to spy them, it would be too much of a risk for Ancel to be seen walking out with a guard who didn't even work for his master. The gossip would immediately start raging, which was the last thing Ancel wanted or needed. So it was over a minute later when Lazar followed him out.

"The barracks are probably empty," Lazar offered once they were alone and away from the noise of the hall. 

Ancel's nose scrunched up in distaste. Months ago, he probably would have accepted such an offer, not knowing any better. His standards were considerably higher now. He would probably end up with fleas or something if he set foot near such a place. Bad enough he was going to be letting someone as low as Lazar touch him; Ancel didn't also need to be rolling around in the bedding equivalent of a dusty burlap sack with him. Ancel might need the information that Lazar most likely had, but he would only bend so far to get it.

Thankfully, Louan knew what Ancel was doing, and so for the next few hours he would avoid the room he – and Ancel by extension – had been granted as guests. Unless he was overcome by a sudden fit of enraged jealousy, Louan wasn't likely to just come bursting in until Ancel gave some sign that the task was accomplished and Lazar was gone. So there would be no need for Ancel to lower himself to fucking in some horrific guards' quarters.

Lazar seemed pleased when Ancel said that they could just use the guest room. Ancel wondered if he'd brought up the idea that potentially being caught was exciting because that was how _he_ felt about it. He'd probably be whipped for sleeping with a pet, so it was doubtful he actually _wanted_ to be caught, but he seemed to like the idea of fucking right in the place where Ancel would be expected to sleep with his master later that night. 

After that was sorted out, though, Lazar was unfortunately silent on the journey to the room. It seemed out of character for him, from what Ancel knew. But of course it would be that way, Ancel thought. Lazar couldn't possibly make it so easy that Ancel wouldn't even have to bend over for him at all before getting the information, could he? 

The strange stoicism continued once they got to the room. Lazar just stood there expectantly, leaning back against the closed door. Rough as he looked, Ancel had half-expected Lazar to shove him face first against a wall and fuck him from behind like that farmer who'd once had Ancel hard and fast in the brothel. Instead, he was lifting an eyebrow questioningly at Ancel as if to say 'what now?'

Did Ancel have to do all the work in both setting up the scheme and executing it?

Apparently so.

Well fine. Ancel could take the lead, if Lazar was going to insist on being indecisive or whatever had suddenly come over him. If Lazar wasn't the type to push Ancel into the wall after all, then Ancel could just turn the tables on him.

Lazar didn't look at all bothered to end up with his back pressed flush to the stones. "It's like that, is it? You like to be in charge?" He didn't seem to be objecting. In fact, he seemed to relax a little once Ancel showed the initiative.

For a wild moment, Ancel wondered if it was possible that Lazar had clammed up because he didn't actually know what to do. The bravado could easily have been a cover. And Ancel supposed he wasn't _that_ old, even though he was certainly a couple of years at least older than Ancel. 

But no, Ancel thought. It was more likely that he just liked having someone else do the work. He _did_ come off as kind of lazy, after all. Or maybe he liked being ordered around. Ancel had never had a customer like that, but he'd definitely heard of them.

Ancel even considered that he might be able to take that idea even further. Would Lazar let Ancel fuck him, even though Ancel was the pet here? Would he perhaps enjoy that just as much if not more than sinking his own cock into Ancel? Could Ancel fuck him into compliance?

But most men Ancel had ever fucked would rebel against the idea. He'd even had one who'd nearly stormed out of the brothel without even paying (Ancel had learned to demand payment up front pretty quickly after that) when Ancel had dared to dip his finger between the man's cheeks to help things along when his repetitive thrusting had drawn out for long enough that Ancel had been starting to doubt that he would ever just get off. Ancel had been able to stop him from leaving and get things back on track, but it wasn't worth taking the risk of something similar happening here. He needed Lazar to end this with a completely positive impression of the experience, and feeling uninhibited. Or like his mouth was uninhibited, more specifically.

Ancel wasn't here to enjoy himself, anyway. He was here to put himself back on the right path to a much better contract.

While Ancel was reaching down to work his way past the laces of Lazar's trousers and part the material, which was cheaper than anything Ancel had been forced to lay hands on in months, Lazar seemed to be also finally up for doing something as well. Unfortunately, that something was the press of Lazar's mouth to Ancel's throat, just under his jaw. Ancel was rarely kissed at all, let alone there, since Louan mostly fucked him from behind where he couldn't even really see Ancel's face and neck, let alone kiss them. Ancel's hands, which had been dextrously sliding Lazar's laces out of the way, faltered when the swipe of Lazar's tongue was replaced by the scrape of teeth. Surely he wasn't going to…

He did. The bite was enough to hurt, and to draw a sound out of Ancel that he hoped registered as outrage rather than something else. Under any other circumstances, when he didn't need Lazar to stick around, Ancel told himself that he would have shoved Lazar away from him right then and there. It seemed he'd been right about Lazar getting hard over the possibility of discovery. There was definitely going to be a bruise of unmistakable origin left on Ancel's pale skin. It would be pronounced and probably long-lasting. There would be no chance of Louan missing it. Ancel would just bet that that was the point. 

If Ancel had had any qualms at all about potentially ruining a man's livelihood – which he didn't – he would have felt justified in it now that he knew that Lazar apparently didn't care if Ancel was caught in his supposed infidelity. Besides, if Ancel was going to have to suffer through Louan spending the next week reclaiming his territory every time he caught sight of the mark, then Lazar should have to deal with some distasteful consequences of his own.

Since Ancel didn't push Lazar away straight away, Lazar shifted around to the other side of Ancel's neck and this time applied suction rather than teeth right over Ancel's pulse point. The bruise that would leave would be less defined but no less recognisable, Ancel knew. Lazar could probably feel Ancel's accelerating heart rate against his lips and tongue. The bite hadn't done much for Ancel – he didn't enjoy pain, but this was different. Even knowing what Lazar's aim was in doing it didn't stop Ancel from enjoying it despite himself. Ancel's suddenly lax hands dropped uselessly away from Lazar's laces, leaving nothing separating their lower bodies but their clothing. 

The tip of Lazar's hard cock – probably peeking out of his halfway-undone trousers – prodded at the hollow just below Ancel's hipbone. The oddly pleasant rhythmic sucking at Ancel's throat nearly had Ancel matching him in that respect.

At the point where there were now four marks littering his neck, Ancel was beginning to think that Lazar intended to ring Ancel's entire neck in darkened splotches, like a mockery of a pearl necklace. Or a collar. Ancel was almost willing to let him do it too. It felt surprisingly good. And after the first mark, Ancel reasoned, the rest made little difference. He might as well go to the guillotine for a diamond as a loaf of bread, as the older thieves in the markets in Sanpelier had been known to say.

But it wasn't Ancel who was supposed to be overwhelmed by this. And it wasn't supposed to be a drawn-out endeavour. It should be just a quick hard fuck designed to leave Lazar satisfied and lax enough to respond openly to Ancel's questions about his work, but not so out of his mind that he'd just pass straight out afterwards the way Louan often did. Ancel hadn't thought that he would have any trouble remembering that, but apparently he'd been wrong.

"My master's only going to be occupied," Ancel pointed out, stepping back slightly to put a little space between his body and Lazar's. 

Ancel considered moving even further back and throwing himself invitingly on the bed, but Lazar looked almost like a permanent fixture in the way he was slumped against the wall, so Ancel couldn't even be sure whether he would follow under his own steam. So he instead took Lazar's arm and moved him around in a half-loop until their positions were reversed. Now it was Lazar's back that was facing the bed, with Ancel bearing down on him. Ancel pressed his other palm to Lazar's chest and pushed. Lazar didn't resist, sliding smoothly backwards – an agility probably gained from all those hours swinging a sword pointlessly around – until he reached the bed. Still without protest, Lazar let Ancel topple him backwards. The bed creaked slightly as Lazar's back, ass and thighs landed on the mattress, and again when Ancel dropped his knees onto it. Ancel shuffled himself forward onto the bed until his knees were resting on either side of Lazar's waist. Ancel didn't get to do it like this very often, so he was less experienced in this than certain other things, but it seemed easier than relying on Lazar to set the pace. 

It was the work of less than twenty more seconds to finish the job on Lazar's laces and withdraw his cock completely from his trousers. The thick length of it rested heavily against Ancel's fingers as he curled his hand around it. Ancel didn't bother to undress Lazar any further once he'd achieved that aim. He had long since grown used to fucking with no more than the necessities removed or even just pushed to the side in the brothel and at the parties Louan had so far taken him along to. Technically, Ancel didn't need to fully undress himself either, but he knew what he looked like, and that Lazar would be all the more distracted by him if Ancel did strip himself to naught but his skin. So Ancel temporarily let go of Lazar's cock – the loss accompanied by a groan of protest – so that Ancel could make a little show of unwrapping the silks from his body as he hovered over Lazar, arching his back as he moved in a way that he was well aware looked attractive. Lazar could claim that Ancel wasn't his normal type all he liked, but Ancel knew that no one could resist him when he was like this. Lazar was no exception.

"You're going to ride me like a horse, are you?" Lazar asked.

Ancel hated horses. The comparison wasn't off-putting enough to make the admittedly already half-hard cock that was currently right in Lazar's eyeline flag, but it didn't do much for him either. However, Ancel took a chance that it would work on Lazar, since he'd been the one to bring it up. Ancel forced himself to say with complete seriousness, "Yeah, I'm going to make you buck under me like a wild stallion."

Lazar laughed, acknowledging the ridiculousness of those words. Yet Ancel could tell it had its intended effect anyway. The cock he was straddling twitched against Ancel's inner thigh.

Ancel always prepared himself when getting dressed for the evening, but Lazar was definitely thicker than Ancel was used to lately with Louan. Not the biggest Ancel had ever had, but nothing to sneeze at, which annoyed Ancel a little. It would have been so much better if Lazar was obviously overcompensating. But no. So lowering himself onto Lazar's cock in a way that allowed himself to adjust to the feeling initially took some time. The slow slide drew a long sigh out of Ancel's mouth.

Lazar looked unbearably smug in response. Ancel just barely managed not to tell him where he could shove that overblown arrogance. He probably _would_ have said it, in fact, regardless of how Lazar might have reacted to that – something about the man brought out Ancel's ever-present desire to say what he was _really_ thinking even when he logically knew that that would be a mistake – if not for how Lazar took that moment to reach out. He slid his fingers down Ancel's belly until they were trailing over Ancel's cock, chasing away any words lurking on Ancel's tongue before they could be voiced. 

No one had ever bothered to touch Ancel's cock when they were fucking him. It was unexpected. And unexpectedly _nice_. Ancel's cock wasn't fully hard yet, but it would likely get there soon enough if Lazar continued that. It was certainly enough to startle Ancel into near-silence. 

As much to distract himself from the movement of Lazar's hand over the most sensitive stretch of Ancel's skin as anything, Ancel was quick to reclaim some of his control by setting a fast rhythm between them He rocked his body just enough to get some tantalising friction at first, but then increased both the pace and the depth until he was pushing down hard enough that his own cock started slapping against Lazar's belly when Lazar finally abandoned touching Ancel in favour of gripping at the bedding to brace himself. 

Lazar barely even helped – he really was content to make someone else do the work, it seemed – but it was equally obvious from the way he threw his head back, his mouth hanging slightly open, that he was into it. 

Ancel knew exactly what it looked like when a man was about to come, so he pointedly drew it out just long enough that Lazar looked to be on the verge of cursing him. Just enough that Lazar would be properly relaxed by the force of his orgasm. As soon as Ancel was satisfied that he was far gone enough to justify it, Ancel went just that _little_ bit harder, which was what Lazar apparently needed. Gasping, it seemed that he finally could be bothered to thrust his hips upwards hard. 

"Damn," Lazar said, the word little more than an exhale. Ancel took it as a compliment.

Even after Lazar had voluntarily reached for him earlier, Ancel had no expectations that Lazar would care at all about the fact that Ancel was still fully hard even while he could feel Lazar's cock now slowly softening inside him. Lazar surprised him yet again by spitting in his hand (disgusting, but admittedly useful) and going back to working his hand over the length of Ancel's cock.

If Ancel cared what Lazar thought of him in the least, he might have said that it took an embarrassingly short time before Ancel was too far gone to stop short even if Lazar had let go again. Apparently Lazar was talented with his hands. Too many nights spent closely acquainting his own cock with his right hand, probably. Ancel wasn't complaining if he got the benefit of it. His eyes finally drifted shut, his brows furrowing slightly, as he tipped his head back with a gasp. He thrust himself forward a little, though not quite enough to dislodge Lazar from his ass, as his come half-coated the back of Lazar's hand and a small section of his jacket. Lazar would probably get comments from his fellow guards later if, or when, they saw that, Ancel thought distantly. 

Even after Ancel had started to catch his breath, he didn't shift away. Lying under him like that, it occurred to Ancel that Lazar was his temporary captive just as much as Ancel was Louan's when Louan wouldn't roll off him quickly enough. That suited his purposes well. So Ancel simply settled his weight fully on Lazar's hips right where he was, still with Lazar's cock resting inside him. It was an intriguing sensation, especially with him still sensitive from climax. 

In fact, he found that he enjoyed the feel of Lazar's soft cock nestled in Ancel's ass, holding Lazar's come in place. Ancel had never done this before – the men who'd fucked him rarely remained in his presence for long enough to get to this stage except for Louan, whose cock probably wasn't big enough when soft to even hold like this. Ancel shifted slightly again to explore it. It was oddly comfortable. Reassuring, he would almost have said, if that made the tiniest lick of sense. Ancel had never been full just for the sake of it rather than it being in the middle of someone fucking him. A pity. And doubly a pity that asking for it in future probably wouldn't be possible without giving someone more power over him than he was willing to provide.

Lazar looked at him questioningly when it became obvious that Ancel wasn't moving away.

"What, are you waiting for another round?" Lazar asked. 

It was the perfect excuse to keep Lazar there and engaged in the meantime, Ancel justified. It had nothing to do with the fact that Lazar wasn't as bad between the sheets as Ancel had been expecting.

"You think you can manage that?" Ancel challenged.

"You might have to wait a minute, but I'm not going to say no."

Ancel would bet – and was relying on – that it would take a lot longer than a minute for Lazar to get hard again. Louan could never manage it twice in one night. Not that Ancel had ever really attempted to help him with that. Once was more than enough, with Louan. 

"Are you that desperate for a decent fuck that once isn't enough?" Lazar asked.

"Yes," Ancel said. There was a little more truth to that than Ancel would have expected. "Are you complaining?"

"Does it sound like I am?"

"Then you'd be interested if I wanted a repeat?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Lazar said.

"Another time, I mean," Ancel clarified. "Are you staying here for more than just the one night?"

It was a good enough way to transition towards a topic that would let Ancel pry without making it absurdly obvious that what Ancel ultimately wanted was a verbal rundown of Everard's upcoming trade schedule. It worked, because Lazar answered readily enough. And the next question as well. And soon enough he was lying with his eyes closed and his hands clasped behind his head, laughing casually about the women he would be soon encountering on a trade run to the east into Vask. 

Ancel was mentally noting down every word.

The twitching of Lazar's cock inside Ancel was a fair indication that Ancel had to wrap up his questioning disguised as pillow talk. That was fine. Ancel thought he'd probably learned at least something that would be useful. The mention of Vask in particular had stood out to Ancel, considering Louan always talked of Patras. So Ancel shifted the focus by tightening himself experimentally around Lazar's cock. As Ancel ground downwards onto it, he felt it expand, slowly stretching him again. It was a peculiar sensation, but one that Ancel didn't dislike, even if he'd enjoyed having it soft and warm inside him more.

Ancel amply rewarded Lazar for his helpfulness. When Lazar's cock was done pulsing into him a second time, Ancel was tempted to keep it there again. Lazar probably would have happily just fallen asleep like that, letting Ancel fill himself. But there was really no justification for it anymore. Ancel had already got what he needed. So Ancel finally let Lazar's cock slip free. He missed it immediately. Two loads of come flowed down the inside of Ancel's leg and painted his ass cheeks once there was nothing keeping it in. Lazar looked pleased by his work, but Ancel wasn't about to let him stick around this time to admire it now that Ancel wasn't getting any benefit from him.

"It's been a while," Ancel said. "My master is bound to come looking for me soon."

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" Lazar asked. "He's going to know what you've done anyway."

His hands gestured at the soiled bedsheets. His eyes rested on Ancel's doubtless ravaged-looking neck. They did so with the same look he'd directed at Ancel's thighs, as if he was pleased with his efforts. He'd definitely done it on purpose so that Louan knew someone else had 'claimed' Ancel, if there had still been any room for denial.

"You'd be surprised what I can hide from him," Ancel said. Which was true to a point. "But even he'll notice another man still right there lying in the bed with me if you're still here when he arrives."

Lazar shrugged and reached for his laces to make himself presentable, or his version of it. "Yeah, can't say I'm keen to have some merchant try to run me out of town, or to get my back stripped. You're good, but not quite _that_ good."

Ancel recoiled slightly. Really? After he'd just given the man two free tumbles of a calibre that Ancel was _sure_ Lazar wouldn't be forgetting Ancel for a second time, Lazar was still going to pretend that Ancel was nothing special? And there Ancel had been thinking briefly, especially when Lazar had taken Ancel in hand with no prompting, that Lazar might actually be a somewhat _considerate_ bedmate. 

Whatever regret Ancel might have been feeling at using the information Lazar had provided against him evaporated. 

Lazar seemed amused by how Ancel turned far less obliging after that, just stopping short of literally kicking Lazar out of the room. He wouldn't find it so funny when he ended up on more or less the same streets that Ancel had managed to escape months ago, Ancel thought.

The idea that Lazar might shortly be out of work and scrounging for a new position somewhere was once more amusing and pleasing to Ancel now that Lazar had proven that Ancel's initial opinion of him had been correct after all. And it was doubly so when Ancel knew that he would be at least part of the reason for Lazar's fall. He could reject and taunt Ancel all he liked, but Ancel would end up significantly higher in the world than him all the same. See how he liked that.

Ancel watched Lazar disappear down the corridor outside the guest room. That would be the last time Ancel would see him, of course. There would be no occasion for them to cross paths again once Ancel was a pet to a Lord and Lazar was potentially disgraced for talking out of turn about his employer.

Louan returned about an hour or so after Lazar had left. Ancel was glad it had taken him so long to arrive. It had given Ancel the opportunity to call for servants to have the bed covers changed, though of course he'd had to come up with some story about his overly amorous master who couldn't restrain himself to just once a day. 

Though the look Louan had given Ancel's neck the moment he entered suggested it probably hadn't made much difference in the long run.

"So that's how Everard's been getting ahead," Louan said once Ancel had recounted what Lazar had told him. "There's less travel time necessary to trade in the mountains than in Bazal, which explains his lightning-fast turnaround. And Patran metals in particular cost more than those from Vask because they're higher quality and more in demand. Everard's been passing off Vaskian goods for Patran, by the sounds of it. No one in the whole country will be willing to deal with him once it gets out that he's been cheating them." 

Louan sounded gleeful, in between looking disgusted every time he looked at Ancel. That was a fair trade for the possibility of being in the presence of nobility soon enough. Ancel wouldn't care a whit for Louan's opinion of him then.

Just as Ancel thought, by the end of the following month, Louan (and therefore Ancel) had secured an invitation to a gathering at Lord Rouart's estate. 

Ancel wondered whether anyone, including Lazar himself, knew how the downfall of Everard had actually come about. He wasn't even sure whether he hoped that Lazar knew that his own loose lips had been responsible for whatever fate he was now experiencing. 

After all, it was harder in retrospect to reflect back on the man with the same sense of ire and wounded pride in mind when Ancel couldn't seem to extricate the memory of Lazar from the feel of his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the overly sappy ending.

It was peculiar, everyone acknowledged, to have the new King of Vere crowned on soil that technically wasn't entirely Veretian anymore. But most people seemed determined not to wonder about it _too_ loudly, for speaking up against the growing strength of the alliance with Akielos was lately often perceived as being much the same as levelling an indictment against Prince Laurent – now King Laurent – himself. No one wanted to have their loyalties questioned. For good reason in most cases. Ancel had watched firsthand from Arles as scores of courtiers suddenly shifted from their previously staunch support of the Regent like drowning rats abandoning a submerging ship the moment the message arrived that the man in question had been executed for treason while his nephew had been cleared of the same charge. They could try to pretend all they liked now, but Ancel knew the truth; Berenger had been one of the few who'd remained behind in the castle after the Prince's then the Regent's departure for whom that news had come as a welcome relief rather than a sign that it was time to do damage control. Most of those among the droves of people dragging themselves uncomplainingly far to the south for the celebrations did so purely as another means of trying to keep up appearances that their allegiance had been with Prince Laurent all along. 

It was telling, though, that while there were many thousands of people gathered to witness King Laurent's Ascension, most of them couldn't even get close enough to the King to see him as anything but a mostly-indistinct golden blur in the distance. Even some of the nobility had to remain at a distance. But Berenger, with Ancel pressed right up to his side in an effect to avoid having to touch anyone else in the throng, was one of the exceptions. 

The King was under no illusions about who his real supporters were, it seemed. There was talk of Berenger being invited to join the King's Council in the next year or two. Ancel wasn't sure he would accept it, considering Berenger still preferred the quiet of his fort in Varenne, and now court would be held a great distance away from there in Marlas. He'd hinted around asking Ancel's opinion on the matter, though, which… was certainly something. More even than how the offer of renewal of Ancel's contract for another year had been treated as a foregone conclusion by Berenger, that suggested some expectation that Ancel would be a permanent fixture at Berenger's side. And where previously Ancel had been intent on always climbing to the next step on the social rungs, now he found himself more than willing to settle down. There was something to be said for it.

Not that it was really settling, of course. If the choice to stay with Berenger had needed any justification, then Ancel could honestly say that everything else aside, it didn't really get much better than one of the King's preferred Lords, especially when the King himself took no pets. Ancel had achieved what he'd set out looking for. He was proud of that, even though he'd admittedly had to step over people to get there.

Ancel had to question the veracity of what his eyes were telling him when he spotted one of the very people he'd left by the wayside during his rise to his current position. Assuming it really was him and not some conjured trick of Ancel's imagination, Lazar still had something of that dishevelled air that made his appearance look careless, if not unattractive for all that, and but he did somehow look a little more polished than he had either of the times Ancel had met him before (and _certainly_ more composed than he had splayed out on the bed while Ancel rode him). That might have been down to the fact – though Ancel could hardly believe it _was_ fact – that he was standing among the King's Guard in matching livery. No one seemed to question his presence, suggesting he really was one of them.

Lazar had been unemployed and possibly even disgraced as a result of his lack of circumspection the last Ancel had heard of him. _How…_

Some people just always somehow landed on their feet, Ancel supposed, almost like that one stray cat that always wandered the alley where Ancel used to sleep in as a child. And some people instead made their own luck in the world. Like how Ancel had gone from beggar and pickpocket to eventually being the pet of one of the wealthiest and best-positioned aristocrats in all of Vere. Ancel would have imagined that if Lazar fit either description it would be the former. But Ancel was starting to wonder if he knew as much about Lazar as he'd thought. The King trusted him, it seemed, even though he couldn't possibly have missed Lazar's mouthiness if he'd known him for longer than a few minutes. And as Berenger had made very clear to Ancel, the King was no fool.

A year ago, Ancel would have anticipated feeling put out upon finding out that Lazar had managed to better his position instead of receiving just punishment for how he'd twice been so dismissive of Ancel. But Ancel found now that he didn't honestly care that much after all. The burn of that experience had faded away somewhat now that Lazar was no longer the only man to ever temporarily reject Ancel, and certainly not the most important one. And look at how that had turned out. Ancel reflexively tightened his hand where it was cupped around Berenger's arm at the thought. It didn't matter if he was Lazar's type, or whether Lazar acknowledged that Ancel was the best he'd ever had. Berenger's opinion on those things was what mattered now.

Lazar obviously registered who he was looking at when his eyes drifted Ancel's way. Ancel could say with certainty that Lazar at least obviously did recognise Ancel this time. Ancel might have been less forgiving of their past encounters if he hadn't. Lazar didn't actually make any move to approach Ancel, though, or give a signal to suggest Ancel should make his way over to Lazar instead. That might have had something to do with how everything about Ancel's proximity to Berenger and their posture announced that they were there together, or it could have been down to how Lazar was apparently on duty right then. But those things still might not have deterred Lazar from confronting Ancel had he been livid about the role Ancel had had in removing Lazar from his previous position. If he had any idea of that in the first place, he didn't really seem to hold a grudge over it now, for he didn't look at Ancel with distaste or outright hatred. It hadn't been entirely forgotten, but neither were either of them dwelling on it. 

And why shouldn't they? Things had worked out better for Ancel than he'd even imagined on that night when he'd led Lazar back to those guest rooms. And apparently, if he was on the King's personal Guard now, they'd worked out extraordinarily well for Lazar also.

"You seem distracted," Berenger said. 

Ancel shifted almost the entirety of his attention back to Berenger, where it belonged.

"Not anymore," Ancel promised.

Berenger seemed content with that, as he did about most things lately. 

Ancel would have judged a man for that, once. Contentment was much the same thing as laziness, Ancel would have thought, and there was no room for it when there was always room to be striving for more. But now Ancel couldn't really blame him. 

Ancel wouldn't have expected it at all a year ago, or even really six months ago, but now he found that he felt much the same as Berenger did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who gave this fic a go, considering that it's not exactly a popular pairing. <3


End file.
